(no subject)

[apiphile]

weightwatchers

you're not in a fast car, and the hot boy is absent.

The wheels on the train go shush-clunk-screech and the faces are grey and bland
Like day-old paste in a bucket, and the the song of disappointed romantic hopes
Has no cigarettes, no yearning, just fuckitfuckitfuckit.

the worst crime of your soul is only shoplifting; there's no murders done here

And the wheels on the bus go chug--chug-chug---chug and the seats smell of boredom
not of fear; and the men look like ashes spread on the remains of conversation,
where hope for something better disembarked at the last station.

you're not asking for a light, just a sense of general direction

And the wheels on your bike are bent out of shape by too much security,
but at least it's not stolen, and your eyes are dry and your cheeks aren't swollen
and there's no sin of which to repent, just the silence of boredom--
aren't you content?

the worst crime of your soul is only drifting

no body count, no forest fire, no wheels roaring the night roads to take your desperation
higher; nothing but average as far as your eye can reach--

and you're not asking for a light, just someone you can miss
with the intensity that poets talk about a forgotten kiss

but you're not in a fast car
and the speed limit is twenty
what's the reward in looking for love
when you've already got plenty?

Comments

[wolfy_writing]

Oh damn, this is powerful!

and there's no sin of which to repent, just the silence of boredom--
aren't you content?

the worst crime of your soul is only drifting

This bit's my favorite.

[gool_duck]

This is very good and sad